


How We Met

by duckmoles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, High School, Kid Fic, Role Reversal, Supervillains, that one universe where tony works for rhodey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 06:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15237429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckmoles/pseuds/duckmoles
Summary: Five ways Tony didn't meet Rhodey, and one way he did.Five AUs in one!





	How We Met

**Author's Note:**

> For the TS Bingo, Square T2: "James Rhodes/War Machine"

**one**

Tony didn’t like going to school. First things first – he was way smarter than any of the other kids here, and he spent classes staring out the back window, doodling designs for the new engine dad had promised they’d work on together when he went home for the holidays, and surreptitiously napping. No one, of course, called him out on it, because his dad was _Howard Stark_ and he was a _billionaire_ and his dad practically funded the whole school.

“Excuse me,” a voice said, interrupting him from where he was rapping his pencil on the library table furiously.

Tony looked up. It was a boy – a little older than him (but then again, everyone was), who had a very determined smile. “Hi,” Tony said, returning to his drumming.

“Excuse me,” the boy said again, louder.          

Tony looked up again. The boy’s smile had disappeared into something more strained. “What?” Tony asked.

“You’re Tony Stark, right?” the boy asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “What’s it to you?” He’d already had this conversation over a dozen times. It was getting on his nerves, having to prove that he was Tony Stark over and over again.

“I’m James Rhodes,” the boy said.

“Okay,” Tony said, scratching at a spot on his neck with his pencil. Maybe if he moved the fifth combustion cylinder slightly to the right…

“I’m your new roommate,” James Rhodes said.

Tony stared at him. “I already have a roommate,” he said. His name was Ty, Tony was pretty sure.

“Well, I’m replacing your old roommate,” James Rhodes said. He sounded annoyed. Tony got that a lot. He’d probably request a new room within a few days.

Tony bit his lip. When he got home, dad would probably be really busy. He probably shouldn’t make the design more complicated than it should be, so they’d be able to finish on time.

“I’ll see you then,” James Rhodes said.

“Yeah,” Tony muttered.

He felt James Rhodes leaning over his shoulder.

“What’s that?”

Tony erased a line, then drew it back in. “I’m designing an engine for dad’s new car,” he said. “We’re going to build it together when I get home.

“That’s really cool,” James said. “I wanna be an engineer when I grow up.”                                                                                   

Tony turned to look at James. “Me too!”

“I wanna build rockets,” James said. “And go to space.”

Tony thought space was pretty cool. Dad didn’t think there was any future in it, even though they’d already been to the _moon_ and who _knew_ where they were going to go next. “I wanna go to _Mars_ ,” Tony said, emphatic.

“I wanna go to _Pluto_ ,” James replied.

Maybe James would be a better roommate than Ty.

 

**two**

Tony didn’t expect to find someone else hidden behind the bleachers during lunch but here they were, leaning against the wall of the science building and writing something in a notebook.

“Hey,” Tony said, “got a smoke?” He thought he recognized him – he was a senior or something, a football player who Tony always saw lounging around the locker rooms even though it was fifth period and he clearly should’ve been in class. Maybe he was one of those seniors who just overloaded their schedule with free periods.

The man looked to stare at Tony. “I don’t smoke,” he said. “It’s bad for your lungs.”

Tony scowled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, I do,” he said. Who did the guy think he was, his mother? (Unlikely – Tony’s mother doesn’t give a crap he’s smoking and drinking and doing whatever else irresponsible teenagers are supposed to do.) He reached into his back pocket and fumbled for his lighter, then reached into his other pocket for a cigarette.

“What’re you doing back here?” Tony asked around a mouthful of smoke. “Gotta be better places to do your homework.” He stretched to look at the name written on a small keychain on Mr. Non-Smoker’s bag: “JAMES.”

“I like the peace and quiet,” James said.

And yeah, Tony got that. The library was always too crowded, the cafeteria was too rowdy, the bathrooms were disgusting, and no one wanted to be the type of person that hung out in a teacher’s room.

James squinted at Tony. Maybe he needed glasses or something. Tony inhaled the cigarette smoke and tried not to act too jittery. There were – fucking ants crawling all over his skin. Bugs or something.

“I know you, right?” James said, standing up, smoothly confident in a way that made Tony want to deck him.

“Probably,” Tony said, giving in to the urge to bounce on his feet. James was right, maybe, about the whole smoking thing. It was just – Tony needed it. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“James Rhodes,” James said, sticking his hand out.

Ha, okay. He was going to try and play friendly, like Tony didn’t know what he was doing. Tony took the offered hand and shook it the way he was taught – two pumps, steady and firm.

“You’re supposed to be a super genius or something, right?” James said. “Can you come and look at this problem?”

Tony tried not to feel too smug. They were all the same in the end – all after Tony for his money or brains. Like there wasn’t a reason Tony was stuck in this hellhole instead of sipping Mai Tais in Hawaii while he worked on his engineering thesis. He walked over to James’s – funny name that didn’t really suit the man at all – bag and plucked up the notebook with his free hand.

His eyes widened as he looked over the notes. They were for a robot design, meticulously written out, with every part labeled in neat, square handwriting.  “Oh, wow,” Tony said before he could stop himself. “You really got going here, didn’t you?”

Rhodes’s skin darkened slightly. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “I’m on the robotics team and –“

“You have a _robotics_ team?”

Rhodes laughed. “Yeah, of course,” he said.

Tony dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his shoes. “I’m in,” he said.

Rhodes looked amused. “I haven’t invited you,” he pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes. When had that ever stopped him?

 

**three**

Tony woke to the sound of a fist banging on the side of the wagon.

“Get out!” the man screamed. “I’ve got goods to load.”

Tony squinted as he adjusted to the light streaming past the open curtain. The merchant huffed as he saw that Tony was awake, then let go of the cloth to step back.

Tony took a brief moment to stretch before climbing out of the wagon. The heat hit him immediately – it must’ve been early in the afternoon, the sun high and heavy in the sky, emanating a soul-crushing heat that had Tony sweating as he looked around at the open marketplace he’d landed in.

It was quieter than Tony would’ve expected, probably the sun driving everyone in for the time being until the evening hit, but still busy.

A man carrying a large stack of crates walked past, bumping into Tony as he did so. Tony stumbled, tripping forward into a cart, which he knocked over spectacularly.

“Watch where you’re going!” Tony spat before realizing that he should’ve concealed his accent better – it would immediately set him apart from the other travelers. Too late; the man who had knocked him over and a few surrounding vendors were staring at him.

The man set down his crates beside a pile of apples and pears, sharing looks with a woman and two blonde men sat behind the main table.

“You’re new around here?” one of the men asked.

Tony couldn’t help it – he blushed and tried to regain what inconspicuousness he had left. “Just got in,” Tony said.

“From the capital, I presume?” the man who had been carrying the crates asked.

“What gave it away?”

The man smiled elusively. “I’m Rhodey.” He nodded to the vendors of the storefront he seemed to be working for. “That’s Natasha. Clint. Steve.” As he spoke, each of them waved.

“The handsome one’s Steve,” Clint drawled. Steve pinked at the words.

“Pleasure,” Tony replied. “I’m – Edward,” he said. If any of them noticed him stumbling slightly over the name, they didn’t say anything.

“Say,” Rhodey said, “if you’re looking for a job and aren’t settled yet, we could use a hired hand to help us as we move.” He shrugged. “If you don’t have business already.”

“It’s good work,” Natasha said.

“We’re heading out past the desert next,” Clint added.

Tony thought about it, keeping himself from fidgeting. He _had_ wanted to get as far away as he could from the capital. Perhaps this was the opportunity he was looking for.

“Alright,” Tony said.

 

**four**

Rhodey didn’t have a lot of time these days – what with training the new Avengers members, managing the new line of smartphones that the company was pushing out, and putting out the PR fire a RI rival had started a few weeks ago – but he read enough of his daily memos and emails to know that Anthony Stark was the best scientist he had in R&D. He was stunned that Stark still stayed in his middling job where he designed all their current projects, but still wasn’t allowed to propose his own projects. Hell, if the reports were correct, Stark could have started his own company long ago.

Still, being busy meant that he hadn’t actually met the guy yet, even though reports of Stark’s genius continuously drifted up the corporate ladder until it reached Rhodey.

“Potts,” Rhodey said, speaking to his newest PA, “How’s my schedule for the day?”

Potts glanced down at the stack of papers in her hand, even though Rhodey was pretty sure the top page didn’t have anything resembling his schedule on it.

“You have a dinner with the Board at seven,” she said.

“That’s it?”

Potts did that funny thing where she smiled without moving at all. “Would you like me to find you some more work, Mr. Rhodes?”

Rhodey smiled. “No, I think that’s enough for today,” he said.

Rhodey spun around in his chair for a few moments after the door shut, absentmindedly working through a few kinks and glitches in his new armor. His mind drifted to the email still open on his computer: _“I’m not saying we should fire him, because Stark is too big of an asset to lose, but maybe someone at HR should give him a stern talking-to. He’s a nightmare to work with.”_

Maybe he’d head down to R&D today, see what the guy was all about. It never hurt to stay in touch with his employees, after all.

 

**five**

“You’re War Machine.”

Rhodey shrugged; it’s not like he came up with the name after all. “You’re Iron Man.”

Iron Man studied him, or at least appeared to. “Some would call this copyright infringement,” he said, finally.

Rhodey didn’t laugh, but it was a near thing. This was Iron Man – famed supervillain that the Avengers had been chasing for years on end – and he was spending their first meeting complaining about _copyright_. Really, it was a miracle they hadn’t run into each other sooner, but with the War Machine suit having been in development hell for months on end as they scrambled to find an appropriate countermeasure to Iron Man’s increased attacks, Rhodey thought it was lucky he was here at all.

“Are you here to stop me?” Iron Man asked, politely.

Rhodey didn’t deign to answer. The Captain would be here momentarily, followed by the rest of the team. Rhodey just had to keep Iron Man distracted.

“Stalling won’t work,” Iron Man said. “My plan is already in motion.”

If Rhodey was going to be seen through just like that, maybe he could get some useful intel out of this. He turned the voice recorder on, one of his limited abilities he still had, frozen like he was currently.

“I’m not monologuing though,” Iron Man said. “This isn’t a monologue. I’m just passing the time while I wait for Spangles and the crew to catch up. This won’t be fun otherwise.”

“And we all know you’re all about _fun_ ,” Rhodey said. Oh no. He wasn’t supposed to reply.

Iron Man, even with the mask, looked amused. “Of course I am. There’s no other reason why I’d do this.”      

Other than the millions he’d stolen over the past few years, Rhodey didn’t say.

Iron Man said something else, but his voice was lost in the peal of thunder and lightning that split the sky. Iron Man looked up. Rhodey breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry to cut this short,” Iron Man said, sounding genuinely sad despite the electronic voice, “but even I’m not reckless enough to deal with an angry alien god. See you tomorrow?” Not waiting for an answer, he flew off into the distance, towards the mountains.

Rhodey fell to the ground as the bands of energy that had been surrounding him and keeping him captive dissipated. Well. At least he’d gotten one useful thing out of being captured on only his third mission. Iron Man was going to strike tomorrow, going by his words, and this time, Rhodey was going to stop him.

 

**+one**

The kid looked like he should be sulking on a playground somewhere, not playing with his pen while half-listening to one of the most brilliant professors at one of the most brilliant colleges in the country.

Rhodey had noticed him their second class, looking like he was barely keeping his eyes open. He’d wondered if it was the professor’s kid before realizing that he was actually there as a student. Rhodey then wondered if he was living here alone, if he had someone to take care of him.

It wasn’t any of his business anyway. Rhodey was just here to keep his head down and get a degree, do something useful with his life.

The kid was asleep now, head pillowed on his arms. The professor continued talking. He probably didn’t have the time to deal with a troublesome student, even if it was just a kid.

Rhodey, despite everything, felt his heart ache.

 _This is a bad idea_ , he thought to himself while taking notes.

 _This is a bad idea_ , he thought to himself three days later, watching the kid get drunk off cheap beer and throw up in the toilet.

 _This is a bad idea_ , he thought to himself four days later, bringing painkillers over to Tony Stark as he slept off a hangover. _He’ll need some food when he wakes up,_ he then thought. The thought after that was, _Oh god, he just knocked over and broke my alarm clock._

**Author's Note:**

> if any of these aus sound vaguely interesting enough for a followup, please say so.


End file.
